


Shades of Deception

by WordGeek



Series: Shades of Deception [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Atlantis Rising, Bottom Jack, Dark, Episode Related, First Time, Humiliation, M/M, Prostitution (sort of), Season/Series 08, Wordcount: Over 1.000
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2006-08-04
Updated: 2006-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-10 01:49:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordGeek/pseuds/WordGeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything in his life was a lie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shades of Deception

"It was never really there, was it?" To Jack's ear, Daniel's voice behind him sounded more like a retch than a gasp of spent passion.

As Daniel heaved himself off, flopping gracelessly onto the bed beside him, Jack thought about lying. The truth was such a subjective thing. But lying was never a good way to start off a relationship-- was that what this was? What it could've been?

He rolled onto his back, grabbing the pillow from under his hips and then stuffing it under his head. "No. Not like you mean." Jack wanted to ask what had tipped him off, but that wasn't in the script.

Daniel was angry. Jack could sense that; his mama hadn't raised no dummies, after all, although Jack often played one on TV. He waited to see how Daniel's ire would manifest itself. Physical violence wasn't out of the question; Jack found he was almost hoping for the cleansing of it. He heard the sharp intake of breath just before Daniel spit the ugly words out.

"So you prostituted yourself to me as what? Some kind of stalling tactic?"

Daniel was smart; Jack had counted on that. He waited a beat, and then another, as if he were thinking about it. Trying to remember which part had been the lie. "Something like that."

Beside him, Daniel barked out a laugh, sour and livid and full of hate. Without looking, Jack knew he'd just rested a forearm across his eyes. "Sooo, letting me fuck you was...?"

Jack had been just convincing enough to get the job done with nothing extra, difficult as that had been, and Daniel had seen through it, just as Jack had known he would, intuitive little sonofabitch. In fact, he'd counted on it. Almost as soon as the flush of need had been assuaged _-while Daniel's dick was still lurching inside him with the remnants of his climax-_ he'd known that Jack's heart wasn't in it.

Nothing for it now, but the truth. Remind me - what was that again? _Mayday, mayday, we are SO goin' in!_

"Just part of the job." It was as much the truth as anything else. Not that it really mattered anymore. Jack knew this had killed their friendship; had known beforehand it would. A casualty of war, sacrificed for the greater good, the bigger picture. Yadda.

"You _bastard!" _Daniel accused through gritted teeth. "You _knew_ I was in love with you, and you let me think you wanted me, too. You let me seduce you, and you used my feelings for you to distract me, to mislead--"

"There'll be other chances to get to Atlantis, Daniel," he interrupted smoothly. "Eventually. Maybe... if Weir finds another ZPM, _and_ if her whole party hasn't died some horrible death already." He was calm. Reasonable. Cold, almost. Cold enough, he wondered? It was a fine line.

Jack could hear Daniel swallowing, and knew he was choking the tears back, trying not to let his broken heart soften his outrage. Which was the greater pain, Jack wondered, the loss of the archeological find of a lifetime, or the loss of the love you thought you'd held in your heart for so long? _Be strong, Danny; we're almost there._

"So." Determined now. Bitter, certainly, but in control at least; and that was an improvement over the scripted version. "You spread your legs for Uncle Sam?"

"Sometimes. If I have to."

"Why?" Anger, obviously, but also morbid curiosity. Or maybe lingering feelings he couldn't kill as instantly and ruthlessly as he'd like.

"Whatever it takes," Jack whispered. They'd tried offering Daniel everything else-- money, his own dig team, the chance to publish. Nothing would dissuade him from following Elizabeth Weir; and if he couldn't go, he wasn't going to play nice anymore.

Apparently Jack was the only thing Daniel wanted _more_ than he wanted Atlantis, and the IOC had known that, somehow; used it. "We need you here, Daniel." It was all the justification he had, for any of it. _I need you here._

Jack felt the bed shift when Daniel got up, heard the rustling of fabric as he found his pants in the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. They'd been... in a hurry. Jack heard the _thwap_ of denim as Daniel thrust his long legs into the stiff jeans. Brand new, purchased specifically for the trip to a galaxy far, far away. The jeans wouldn't see Atlantis, either.

"Y'know, I never imagined you to be someone's lackey." An accusation designed to humiliate, because words were weapons, and Daniel Jackson, PhD, could wield them like no one else.

_Jack O'Neill, sycophant._ He lay still, not watching Daniel dress, not going too far, not rising to the bait. Not moving a muscle, lest he lose his own control and throw himself on Daniel's mercy. It'd be so easy to pull him back into his arms, say it'd all been a set-up, he was sorry, it wasn't how it looked... But that wasn't in the script, either, and if Jack let it go down that way, no one would ever find their bodies.

"I'm not anyone's lackey; I did what I thought had to be done. Earth needs you here, Daniel; no one else on the planet has your skill set, and that makes you invaluable. Too valuable to let run off to some pointless planet."

"That 'pointless planet'," Daniel enunciated sharply, "has the potential to be the answer to all of Earth's problems, Jack!" He crammed his feet into his shoes with an impatient grunt. "But I guess it wouldn't be the first time the Pentagon's had its head up its collective brass ass, now, would it?"

Jack didn't bother to disagree; this had to play out, and them being friends at the end of it, although _part of_ the script, was somehow a perversion in Jack's mind. This way was harder, certainly more dangerous, but a little more honest in the end.

"You're not gay." A statement. As his fingers fumbled the buttons of his fly, Daniel looked over his shoulder to see Jack's expression as he answered.

"No." Another lie. Maybe the worst one.

"Then why did you insist on bottoming? Surely your surveillance told you I'd switch."

"That was my decision," Jack admitted, keeping his eyes carefully averted, giving Daniel privacy. "I thought it'd make it less..."

"Traumatic?" Daniel finished for him with an infuriated smirk. "Less difficult later to let me top now, imagine I'm in some kind of control, than to know that my best friend fucked me over? _Literally."_

"Daniel..."

"Save it, " Daniel spat as he yanked his shirt over his head. He finished dressing -glasses, watch, his jacket was around there somewhere- in total silence, glad Jack didn't bother to try to give him some phony apology. _A little integrity left, then._

By the time he was put back together -fuck the jacket, he'd get his rich Uncle Sam to buy him a new one- he'd regained some control. The hammering in his chest was all that was keeping him from having a complete breakdown. He was holding on by a thread, knowing that everything in his world had just red-shifted.

He knew the government must want him pretty fucking badly to have gone this far. That was fine by him, because now he held all the cards, and he was going to change the game. "Tell the stinking toe cheese you work for that it worked." His voice was hard, but calm. "I'll stay, on one condition."

Jack looked at Daniel for the first time since they'd fallen into the bed. The line of his back, rigid, unyielding. He'd never loved Daniel more. _Here it comes._ "What's that?"

Daniel deliberately turned to face Jack, to gain eye contact, so Jack would _know_, so he could feel every drop of Daniel's hatred. And so that later, there'd be no room for misunderstanding. "From now on, your ass is mine," he said levelly, as if he were brokering some kind of treaty and setting out his terms. "Anytime I want it, anywhere. I'll have you any way I please, and you'll enjoy it and make me believe it.

"Now, you can leave the security camera in my office, if that would give the Joint Chiefs a little thrill, but you should know I'll be taking you there, over my desk or on your knees, possibly several times a day. You might want to install a lock on my door first thing in the morning, if you don't want the base to get an eyeful of General O'Neill taking it up the ass or sucking me dry. 'Cause right now, I don't fucking care _who_ finds out."

As he left, he shot over his shoulder, "Oh, and Jack?" He stopped at the threshold of Jack's bedroom, certain the room was bugged, and not caring in the least. "You _will_ be gay by the time I'm through with you. I guarantee it."

Jack lay in his ruined bed, listening to the sounds of Daniel's haste to get away from him -- first the front door slamming as he stormed out of the house, followed by a short screech of rubber as he peeled away in his car.

Jack closed his eyes, not allowing himself to smile. Well, it hadn't been by the script exactly, and he'd probably pay for that one way or another, but it had been the only way he could think of to get them together with the government's blessing, right under their noses. Microwave and infrared made every venue too dangerous; there were bugs everywhere. Whispers were heard, and body heat was tracked, their every move watched by multiple agencies, 24/7.

Thank god for a friendship so deep they could think each other's thoughts; this couldn't've gone more perfectly if he'd've been able to explain the scam to Daniel ahead of time. Jack took a moment and felt the shame for that betrayal, that lie, and mourned the death of their close friendship, dead and buried, for what he hoped would ultimately end up to be a worthy cause.

They were together now, after a fashion. Maybe in time, Jack could convince Daniel to move in with him, so there'd be more opportunities for this whatever-it-was to evolve into something better, something real. So Jack could convince him that what they had was consensual, wanted, dreamed of, and not just Daniel's revenge for having been played so completely.

Maybe someday, Daniel's hatred would fade, and he could find a way to love Jack again. Maybe eventually, Jack could explain to Daniel in a way that couldn't be tracked or overheard, that he loved him more than he could ever say, always had, and always would.

Hah. And maybe there'd be a miracle, and Daniel would be able to forgive him. _Sure_, he thought to himself, _tell me another one._

At age fifty-two, with tricky knees and a shiny star on each shoulder, he was a pretty unlikely candidate to turn into someone's fuck toy, but he'd seen and been stranger things, he supposed. Daniel had carte blanche with the entire Program at this point, and if he wanted Jack on all fours on the gate room ramp, no one could stop him.

Jack suspected Daniel's first order of business would be to divert funds to search for another ZPM. He wouldn't blame him, and if he were successful, and if Daniel allowed it, Jack would gladly follow him to the Pegasus Galaxy.

There was some small, but sweet justice in knowing that for all their manipulations and machinations, the end result was that now Daniel had the entire International Oversight Committee wrapped around his dick, and Jack thought that was comical as hell.

In the meantime, in the privacy of his own head, Jack could imagine that he and Daniel had the kind of relationship he knew they'd both wanted once upon a time. Because right now, pretty much everything else in his life was a lie.

**Author's Note:**

> It's all Sandy's fault. Love and thanks to Jude for the spit and polish. All remaining mistakes are my own.


End file.
